


Motion Sickness

by MDA_Writings



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Caring Aaron Hotchner, Description of Sickness/Nausea, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Light Angst, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Name-Calling, Office Blow Jobs, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Pregnancy Scares, Reader-Insert, Secret Relationship, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vomiting, just about 4800 words of me being horny for Hotch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:40:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24891748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MDA_Writings/pseuds/MDA_Writings
Summary: You've been secretly seeing your boss for a few weeks now. It's just sex. You two agreed that work and sex should be separate. However, when you get sick in front of the team on a case and JJ loudly asks you if you're pregnant, everyone gets a little suspicious. You and Hotch have a fight and then makeup... with sex of course.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader, Aaron Hotchner/You
Comments: 5
Kudos: 311





	Motion Sickness

“We have a case, New York.” Hotch nods at you from across his desk. You cross your legs, the light from the window bouncing off the shiny smooth skin revealed by your short skirt. You see your boss’s eyes drift towards your exposed skin, before quickly looking back at the paperwork on the desk.

“Well damn,” you mutter frustratedly, “I was hoping to spend the whole weekend in bed.” You grin at Hotch, hoping to get a reaction out of him.

“You’ll have to change those plans.” It’s not often that Hotch smiles but you can see the corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly. A sight that makes your own smile double in size.

“Or…” you trail and check to make sure the office blinds are shut. You stand up slowly and walk behind him. You lean your head close to his ear. Placing your hands on his shoulders, rubbing them lightly, “I could make a mistake… forget to book a room for myself.” You place small kisses on his cheek and neck. “You volunteer to let me stay in your room.” You nip at his jaw. That finally elicits a groan out of him. “Aaron come on.” At the sound of his first name, he finally looks up from the paperwork. His pen hits the table loudly. You move to the other side of his neck, planting gentle kisses under his jaw.

“Y/n we’re at work. We said we’d keep things separate,” Hotch clears his throat. Your laugh rings out through the office.

“I remember. Work and play shouldn’t mix.” You grip the back of his chair and pull it out. You walk around to stand in between him and the desk, parting his legs with your own. “But maybe just this once.”

You drop down to your knees in front of him. “You shouldn’t— this is a bad idea, what if someone comes in?” he argues with you, but the growing bulge in his pants urges you on.

“Well if you’re really quiet,” you start undoing his belt, “we could get away with it, _Sir_ ,” you purr out the last word, his hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly. You unzip his pants and pull his waistband down just enough to let his growing erection free. You look up at him, before bending to lick his whole length.

“Fuck that feels good,” Aaron groans out, letting out a long shaky breath. You take as much of him into your mouth as possible, a growl erupting from his throat. His fingers entangle themselves in your hair, gripping tightly, taking control over your pace.

“You can take more,” he gruffly commands. His harsh demand sparks arousal in you. He shoves your mouth down deeper, drool dripping out of the corners of your mouth. You feel his length hit the back of your throat and you gag slightly. He chuckles at the sound, “Better.”

Tears sting your eyes, his cock blocking off your airway. You lose your breath for seconds, huffing through your nose heavily. You hum around him. He moans loudly. Jesus, that fucking sexy moan does things to you. You clench your thighs, feeling warm wetness growing between them.

“You want someone to walk in, don’t you,” Aaron groans, teeth clenched, fingers tangled messily through your hair, “You want someone to see you like this. You on your knees, my cock in your mouth. See you like the little slut you are.”

Your thighs clench tighter at that. You can tell your panties are already ruined. Good thing your go-bag has a few pairs of unsoiled panties.

He tugs at the roots of your hair harshly, pushing your head all the way down to the bottom of his shaft before pulling you back up to the tip agonizingly slow. You suck his tip, swirling your tongue, desperately taking in air through your nose, your lungs burning. You hear knock at the door and the knob turning. You quickly shoot under the desk, Aaron slides his chair in, hiding you and his rock hard cock.

“Hotch? We’re gathering now,” JJ calls from the door. You pray that she doesn’t step further into the office.

“Sounds good JJ. I’ll be there in just a second,” Hotch’s voice is gravelly, the way it always gets during sex. He tries to clear his throat a few times. You feel pride overwhelming you. You trail your fingertips up his right leg, tracing patterns on his skin. He kicks you lightly in response. You bite your lip to keep from yelping. You look at his erection and grin, a great idea popping into your head. 

You take him into your mouth once more. Hotch groans but quickly coughs covering it up, "Anything else, JJ?" His voice is steady even as you swirl your tongue around his length at an agonizingly slow pace.

You can hear JJ hesitating to leave, “Hotch have you seen Y/N? Morgan said he saw her come in here a while ago but no one has seen her since. We need to go over the case.”

Aaron reaches to grip your hair tightly, trying to still your movements. “Yeah, we just discussed a small error in her report. She’s definitely close by.” You grin at his word choice. JJ leaves, you hear the office door shut. Aaron pulls his chair out and looks down at you, "Are you fucking insane?"

"Just a little." You smirk at him, "You want me to stop and leave you like this?" Aaron's eyes flutter closed with frustration and he shakes his head as you resume your position, your lips wrapped around his cock, his hand in your hair. He begins panting, his hips thrusting erratically. He’s desperate for just a little more time fucking your throat. You can tell he’s close. You bob your head fast and take him as deep as possible. You try and place your tongue everywhere, licking every inch of his fat cock.

You moan around him as he shakes his head. “You’re going to swallow every last drop, you hear me?” Aaron growls out throwing his head back, biting his lip to stifle the loud moans. He shoots his load into your mouth and you swallow. You pull away to wipe at the corners of your mouth and look up at him, pride evident on your face yet again. This stoic agent, able to strike fear into terrifying, murderous serial killers, is reduced to a quivering moaning mess with you. It made you proud to know you had a unique form of control over the man.

You let out a small laugh and slowly stand up. “That was a close one,” You smooth out your clothes, cleaning off dust from the ground.

“This is funny to you?” Despite his question, the corners of his mouth turn up again, that hint of a smile dancing on his lips. You can see the hunger in his eyes. He wants to lock the door. Return the favor. Strip you down and spank you a few times for teasing him with JJ in the room.

“A little bit,” you grin, “I’ll come running into the conference room, say I was late.” You bend down to kiss him gently, “You can scold me in front of everyone.”

He pulls you close to draw out the kiss a little longer, “Let’s just get this case done quickly so we can get home.”

—

As the plane hits light turbulence, you feel your stomach turn over. Bile rises in your throat and you bite it back, laying your head on the chair. You feel Hotch’s eyes on you from the seat across. You let your eyes flutter open. You can tell he wants to ask you what’s wrong. He can read the discomfort all over your face. Luckily, Morgan asks for him.

“What? You scared of a little turbulence?” Morgan tries to tease you, nudging your arm lightly.

“I guess it’s just making me a little sick.” You hold your stomach and bite back nausea. Hotch’s eyes are trained on you. You can tell he’s worried about you because his eyebrows have relaxed from their permanently furrowed position to a softer more raised one.

“Well if you’re gonna throw up, aim away from me.” Morgan leans towards you with that charming smile of his. When you first got to the BAU you originally thought Morgan was the guy you would have a fling with. He’s closer to your age, your traditional type: muscular, smug, sarcastic, flirty. However, as soon as you set your eyes on Hotch, Morgan was a thing of the past.

When Hotch found out about this little attraction well… let’s just say you couldn’t sit comfortably for days. Hotch’s eyebrows go back to their harsh, scrunched position as he watches you joke around with Morgan. He begins to go over the case with the team. You tune out most of the conversation, struggling to keep your coffee and breakfast down.

“They have yet to identify the body. Her face was brutally slashed and her teeth knocked out,” Hotch nods, “But they think it’s Jessica Simmons. She went missing just a few days ago.”

As Hotch talks through the crime scene photos you feel the bile rise in your throat and jump up rushing to the bathroom, holding your mouth. You barely get the toilet lid open in time before heaving up your guts into the toilet. You sink to the floor, running shaky hands over your hair.

“Y/n?” You can hear Reid’s voice from the other side of the door. “You alright in there?”

“Y-Yeah,” you call out and stand to run the faucet, attempting to rinse the taste from your mouth. “I’m okay,” you say mostly to yourself. Once you finally leave the bathroom, legs feeling shaky, the whole team turns to look at you. You force a smile, “Guess I must’ve eaten something off.” Hotch’s eyes stay trained on you.

“You okay to work this case?” he asks before forcing his focus back down to the case file.

“Yes, Sir,” you nod.

The next time you unload your stomach is just after you arrive at the police station. You were unloading the case files, setting up the evidence board when the wave of nausea hit. You ran to the bathroom, once again, barely making it in time. That time, Emily saw you and followed you to hold your hair back.

The third time, you and the team were giving the preliminary profile. You and the rest of the team walk back to the conference room you set up with all the evidence. You feel it again. The bile rises in your throat. You reach for the nearest trash can, spewing the acidic contents of your stomach into the poor police officer’s bin. “Sorry,” you cough out to him.

JJ is close by and she moves to grab your hair, putting it up messily, “Holy crap are you pregnant?” she lets out loudly.

You feel every single fucking pair of eyes on you as JJ says that. You shoot her a small glare before your body is wracked with another bout of nasty gagging and vomiting. JJ helps you up off the ground, walking you back into the conference room in the station.

“You know despite its name, morning sickness can occur at any time of day during pregnancy,” Reid rattles out as you take a seat at the desk holding your head tiredly.

“Wait so you’re really pregnant?” Emily struggles to hide her shock.

“No way!” Morgan laughs, “You’ve been sleeping with someone and we didn’t figure it out?”

“I’m seriously questioning my profile skills,” Emily teases.

You finally lift your head from your hands, looking around at the rest of your team. Their faces are all a mixture of shock and happiness. That’s when your eyes meet Hotch’s gaze. His eyes are trained on you. His lips are pressed firmly into a thin line. “Do you need to take off from this case for some personal time?” he lets out quite diplomatically.

“No, no I’m not even—” you swallow harshly, the back of your throat still burning, “I don’t know if I’m… I can’t be pregnant,” you mutter, “I’m on the pill, it’s probably just food poisoning.” You look at the team again, “Sorry to kill the mood.”

“So you are sleeping with someone?” Morgan laughs, “Now this is gonna be fun to figure out.”

“You know the pill is 99.7% effective if taken with perfect, strict adherence to the directions. In reality, it ends up being around 91% effective taking into account mistakes and forgetfulness,” Reid gives a small close-lipped smile.

“Don’t we have a case to focus on?” you groan, “You know, the psychopath cutting up women’s faces?”

“If you feel okay to get back to work we should start going through police records with Garcia,” Hotch attempts to get the team back on track but you can see the way the cords in his neck stand out. He’s furious with you but you simply don’t have time to deal with his illogical anger. You have a case to get to and murdered women to get justice for.

After a few hours of combing through piles and piles of cases, you finally start to see a possible connection. “I want to go question the college professor, Adam Screen,” you nod at the team handing around the file, “He fits the preliminary profile but so could anyone he mentored in his class.”

“Morgan and Prentiss, you go question him,” Hotch commands and you see your coworkers hesitate slightly, looking at you to join them.

“Uh… Hotch I was thinking I could also go. It’s my lead after all,” you cross your arms.

“I don’t want you running around out in the field, you’re sick,” he nods.

“I feel fine. It’s my idea to go interview that professor,” you protest, repeating yourself more forcefully. You soon regret it. Hotch mirrors your hostile body language, crossing his arms across his chest. His brows are so tightly crunched that they might just merge with his eyes. His jaw clenches as you fight with him.

“Do you want to stop a killer or get the glory of doing it all yourself?” Hotch snaps before nodding at Morgan and Prentiss, “Go.”

You’re at a loss for words. He’s always commanding at work. Hell, he’s commanding in the bedroom. But sleeping together isn’t supposed to change your work relationship. And it never has. He still gives you orders and you still follow them, he is your boss after all… but he never raises his voice at you like that. “Sorry, Agent Hotchner,” your tone is biting. “I won’t disrespect you again,” you pause, “Sir.” Normally a line like that would be funny to both of you. It would be soaked in sarcasm and double entendre. It’s one of those lines that reduces Aaron Hotchner to a growling, groaning mess of hormones. This time you throw it in his face.

Before you can dramatically storm off as you would want to, Aaron grips your arm, whirling you around. He pulls you to the side, “You didn’t think it necessary to mention you might be pregnant?” His grip is tight, his eyes searching yours.

“It’s just food poisoning or something,” you try to shake him off but his hand remains on your arm, “It doesn’t affect how I do my job. Plus, I don’t even think I am pregnant.”

“You know that for sure?”

“Well… no. I don’t see why you would need to know since it doesn’t affect this case.” You repeat your line of reasoning.

“You don’t see why I would need to know?” he mutters through his tightly clenched teeth. He opens his mouth to speak again but looks around the police station. There are eyes on you two now. He lets go of your arm, “Stay here and work with Reid. That’s an order agent.”

You rip your arm from his grip, finally getting the dramatic storm off you wanted, frustratedly slamming down into a chair next to Reid.

—

You clean up the paper and trash in the bathroom and walk back towards the bed in your hotel room. You look over the photos and case files spread out across the mattress. “I need a drink,” You mutter to yourself under your breath and walk to open the mini-fridge. You pull out a small bottle of vodka and reach for a glass when there’s a few rapid knocks at the door.

Hotch stands at your door, “Look we need to talk,” he pushes past you into the room.

“Yes, do come in,” you breathe out and shut the door behind him. He rushes in and turns to look back at you. His brows are furrowed. As always.

“I know this was just supposed to be uncomplicated sex but I care about you,” His hair is sticking up erratically, not gelled down neatly like normal. You can tell he’s been fussing with it nervously. He rubs a hand over his face. For a man who is always calm under pressure, you’ve never seen him so frantic and riddled with nerves. “I mean you’re a member of the team… I’m responsible for you. And you should’ve told me not just as your boss but as the possible father to a baby!”

“Hotch,” you let out trying to get him to calm down. You’ve never seen him so chaotic, so neurotic.

He gestures at you, “And you know why I didn’t want you out in the field but you fought me on that. What if something happened to you? You could be risking the life of our child.” He shakes his head, “And I don’t know where you stand on that issue but I was just looking out for you and-” He turns and sees the alcohol laid out on the bar.

“Aaron, I’m not pregnant,” You clarify. At your words, his brows relax. He uncrosses his arms. He moves to sit on the edge of your bed, crushing the papers underneath him. He reaches to loosen his tie.

“You’re sure?” He looks up at you. He almost looks disappointed.

“I can go dig the test out of the trash if you want more proof.” You slowly move to stand in front of him, pulling his head up to look up at you, “This… this is good Aaron. We can’t do our jobs and worry about a baby too. Plus, you have Jack to worry about.”

Aaron places his hands on your hips, pulling you closer, “I know, I know. I just-” He stands up so that you’re the one looking up at him, “I want you to know that you mean a lot to me.” He cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb over it gently. “More than just as a member of this team.”

“I know,” your voice is small and soft. “You mean a lot to me too.”

“I didn’t want to see you get hurt,” Aaron tries to apologize, “I’m sorry for snapping in the station”

“I know,” His calloused fingers brush against your face. You feel tingles spread throughout your body with his touch.

“It’s hard to be around you all day without touching you,” he mutters under his breath as his lips gently press against yours. “And that little stunt you pulled in the office yesterday?”

“You liked it,” your breath hitches in your throat as his hands roam your body, touching, squeezing. His hands hungrily and frantically unbutton your top. Each moment his fingers touch your skin, you feel on fire, needy for him. He’s pushing you back until the back of your knees hit the bed. You collapse backward, Aaron right above you, his tongue hungrily invading your mouth. He pulls your shirt and bra off and trails his lips down to your neck.

“Move up to the headboard,” he growls out as he pulls away to look over your body. He tears his belt from his pants and tightens it around your wrists, “Keep those hands above your head,” he orders.

“We’ve never done this while on a case,” you smirk, following his directions, “You’re always so serious about that work and play separation.”

“I’ve been dying to rip those clothes off of you since your little stunt in my office the other morning,” He removes the tie from his neck and begins throwing his clothes to the floor. His head buries into your neck, kissing and nipping gently until he reaches your breasts. He takes one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking it gently while the other hand massages your other breast.

You shudder at his touch, throwing your head back. You can only manage a whimper as you feel warmth pooling in between your legs already. Aaron moves his mouth to the other nipple giving it just as much attention, flicking his tongue back and forth over it. He takes a moment to pinch and squeeze at the sensitive bud. “Fuck.” You pant and tug at the belt around your wrists.

Aaron brings his mouth up to meet yours once again, hungrily devouring your moans. You want to tangle your fingers in his hair and tug at it. You want to cup his cheeks and hold him close.

“You keep trying to free your hands like that I’m going to have to teach you how to behave,” he growls out against your lips between kisses. He nips at your lips lightly and reaches to yank down your pants and lacy thong. His hand goes to rub agonizingly slow circles on your clit.

His touch is rough and sudden, resulting in a yelp of pleasure from you. His smirk grows at your loud moans and groans, “Quiet sweetheart, I’m pretty sure Morgan’s room is right next to yours.”

“Let him hear us,” you growl out and lean up to connect his lips with yours again. His hot mouth is all over you, your lips, your neck, your jaw. His fingers rubbed faster circles around your clit and you clench your thighs around his hand.

“I have been thinking about fucking you like this all day,” He whispers next to your ear before thrusting two fingers inside you slowly. You arch your back on the bed as you feel him stretching you, his fingers exploring your pussy, curling, and thrusting.

“God Aaron please,” you whine, “Don’t tease me.”

“Not teasing, just want to take my time with you,” he breathes out and buries his head between your thighs, licking and exploring every inch of your soaking pussy with his tongue. His amazingly skilled tongue.

It’s not long before you feel the tension building in your stomach. Your body is tense, your thighs clenching around Aaron's head, and your eyes practically roll back in your head. You chant his name as your orgasm rattles your body. Your skin feels like it's on fire as he continues to lick and suck your clit as you ride out the high. He kisses back up to your mouth and you can taste yourself on his lips. “I need you to fuck me. Now, Aaron,” you intend to sound demanding but it comes out as a whiny beg instead.

Before you can even ask again, Aaron parts your legs, practically bending you in half as he lifts your legs towards your shoulders. He slams into you hurriedly, desperately. You moan out his name and a few incoherent words and curses as his length hits deep inside you.

“Fuck you’re gorgeous,” Aaron growls and leans down to kiss you hungrily, “Every fucking inch,” He mumbles against your lips. You want to respond, cry out, moan his name, but you can’t think straight. Every sound out of your mouth is a moan or groan or curse word.

His hips buck messily and you feel as if he might just split you in half at this rate. It’s not until his fingers grope for your clit, that you feel yourself clenching around him. The knot is building in your stomach.

“Cum for me again.” That's when you fall apart all over again. This time, even louder and more intensely. Your head rushes with pleasure as you feel his cock throbbing inside you as he continues his unrelenting pace. You’re still panting and moaning and squirming when you feel his warmth fill you and hear his groans dissolve into erratic pants.

Aaron soon collapses next to you. Your limbs are entangled, the two of you sweaty, panting, and thoroughly exhausted. As soon as your heart rate begins to normalize, you turn on your side to look at him, unable to prevent the smile from growing across your face. His face is calm, not it’s usual angry resting face with the furrowed brows. He feels your eyes on him and turns to you, finally cracking a smile. “What?” he chuckles softly. You cup the bottom of his cheek, his stubble pricking your hands and fingers as you run your thumb over his chin, gently brushing his bottom lip.

“You should smile more, Aaron. You’ve got such a handsome smile.” You pull your hand back and move to bury your head in between his head and his shoulder. He moves to wrap an arm around you and you rest your right hand on his chest, tracing patterns on his bare skin.

“Say it again,” he hums softly.

“What?” Your brows knit together.

“My name,” Aaron smiles, “I miss hearing it all day.”

Your face flushes and you smile widely, “Well I think the team would be suspicious if I suddenly started calling you Aaron.”

Aaron’s eyes flutter closed, “It always calms me down. Knowing you’re with me.”

“I'm with you?” You close your eyes, moving to rest your head on his chest.

“This isn’t just sex anymore, Y/N. I think we both know that.” His voice has taken on his stern, ‘Unit Chief Hotchner,’ tone.

“I know,” your voice is soft, barely filling the silent hotel room, “I don’t think I want just sex anymore.”

“Me neither,” Aaron presses a kiss to the top of your head. You let your eyes softly close, his hand rubbing your back gently. With your head pressed to his chest, you hear his heart beating steadily, the gentle thumping soothing you. The two of you are peaceful for just a few minutes longer when a pounding knock at your door breaks the tranquil post-coital atmosphere.

“Hey! Y/N! I just got a call from that professor. He thinks he knows a student who fits our profile.” Morgan bangs on the door again. You and Hotch both jump up, frantically scrambling for clothes. He jumps into his pants quickly and you toss him his shirt. You bend down to pick up the scattered files and crime scene photos, laying them back out on the bed before reaching for your bra.

“Oh uh one second!” you call and quickly button up your shirt. You rush to grab the handle and glance back at Hotch, who is frantically trying to fix his tie. He hops on each foot, trying to slip on his shoes.

“Have you been able to get in contact with Hotch?” Morgan asks through the door, “I knocked on his door but he didn’t answer.”

You run to the door and open it slightly, revealing Hotch standing behind you, pretending to look over the case files on the bed. Morgan glances past you at Hotch and raises his eyebrows in shock.

“Y/L/N had some ideas about the case,” Hotch steps away from the bed before walking closer to you and Morgan by the door.

You run your fingers through the tangles in your hair. You start to roll up your long sleeves. Morgan’s eyes travel down to your wrists. You look down at the red marks around them, “So uh you have more information?” You tuck your hands behind your back.

Morgan’s smile grows and he leans against the door frame, “Yeah we can finally deliver the profile. We’re meeting at the police station as soon as possible.” There’s a pause. “Your shirt is buttoned wrong.” Your face flushes intensely and you adjust the buttons.

“Is the rest of the team aware of this?” Hotch reaches for his suit jacket and gathers up the photos and papers on the bed.

“I just woke all of them.” Morgan waits for a beat, “Hotch?” He grins as Hotch looks up at him. He points towards the bed, where Hotch’s belt lies across the messed up sheets, “You forgot to put back on your belt.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun writing this! Leave any comments, critiques, or even requests in the comments. I love feedback! (I have a whole load of Hotch fic ideas coming up so I hope you stick around to read more of my stuff) <3


End file.
